Ghost of a Crush
by Sprech4
Summary: No one was sure what to make of it when Professor Gutten Kisling showed up on Ari’s doorstep with his pink, floating friend. Kisling x OC...sort of.


No one was sure what to make of it when Professor Gutten Kisling showed up on Ari's doorstep with his pink, floating friend.

The fact that he was there in the first place wasn't as much of a surprise – he (and select other members of their little clique) would occasionally drop by for old time's sake, or, in Kisling's case, to talk toenails with Ari's father. But this was…well, this was _different_.

"Ari! Might I inquire as to the whereabouts of your father?" said Kisling with arms wide open, as if he _didn't _have a sentient mass of ectoplasm floating next to him.

"…That's not coming in."

Kisling paused, but did not frown. "Why, whatever could you mean?"

Ari pointed at the ghost. Its big, yellow eyes got bigger.  
Kisling just laughed. "Ah, but Ari! She is merely a new subject for my paranormal studies!"

"It's a ghost. It might attack someone or…" He paused. "_She?_"

Kisling motioned to the large, red bow (somehow) set atop the floating cloud.  
"…Natch," said Ari.

"Boo," said the ghost.  
Kisling just smiled.

Ari, though obviously confused, stood his ground. "It's still not coming in." He thought for a moment. "And I don't think dad is-"  
"Ah, professor Kisling!"

Ari grimaced.

"What a pleasant surprise!" continued Ari's father, completely oblivious to his son's ire, "And…why, who is your lovely friend?"

"A new acquaintance of mine, my dear man!" said Kisling with a pleasant smile (as pleasant as a smile from him could be, anyway). "Her name is Boonita!"

Ari's palm hit his own face with godlike speed.

Kisling paid no mind. "I'll procure unto you the details of the meeting within the comfort of our designated conference room, as I've also made a new discovery that I wish to briefly discuss with you!"

His father led the professor up the stairs, translucent new friend in tow, and Ari was left alone.

* * *

It was three hours, twenty-five minutes, and fourty-eight seconds before professor Kisling left. Ari wasted no time in metaphorically assaulting his father in regards to the professor's newfound acquaintance.

"Ah, you mean Boonita!"

"I…yeah, Boonita. I didn't think he was the kind to actually capture—"

"_Capture? _Oh, no," Ari's dad took a sip of his coffee and continued, "He claims that _she _followed _him._"

Ari just stared.

"In fact," he went on, "The professor was so pleasantly surprised by the development that he ran additional tests to see if he had gained the ability to attract ghosts." He paused and frowned a bit. "Unfortunately, that was not the case. Very confusing."

The distinct feeling of impending doom loomed over Ari. "So…great. Yeah. Was that the development he wanted to talk to you about?"

"Oh, no. He just discovered a new way to categorize toenail clippings," Ari's dad leaned forward in his chair, "But that's infinitely more interesting! Would you like to hear about it?"

Ari was out the door in record time.

* * *

"I don't know if I believe him."

Rosalyn looked up from her tea. "Is that so?"

"It's just…I figured ghosts would learn to run _away_ from Kisling."

It was the day after professor Kisling had visited Ari. The boy, during an errand run in Tennel, had found that the Hero Rosalyn was making her Heroic rounds in less-than-Heroic town. Rosalyn was thrilled to see her protégé and, being a particularly motherly hero, insisted on sitting him down to a picnic lunch and that oh, the area beside the circus tent was just _perfect_ for such things.

Presently, the Hero looked rather dubiously at Ari. "But what reason would he have for lying?"

"Yeah, bro! Doc Kisl is a good guy!" Oh yes, Big Bull was in town as well, although his company was a tad less desirable.

"Yeah, but this is just…weird."

"But Doc Kisl never lied about anything!"

"I guess…" Ari paused for a moment, "S…Stop calling him that."

Big Bull blinked. "How come, bro?"

"It really, physically hurts to hear you call him that."

"But that's my name for him, bro! Doc Kisl!"

Ari's hand hit his face again, and Rosalyn decided that now was an opportune time to intervene. "I should be in Madril by tomorrow. Shall I ask him about this?"

Big Bull grinned. "Great idea, sister! You're totally blunt enough for that!"

The Hero frowned at the comment, to which Ari quickly added; "Are you sure? I mean, he'd never lie to _you_, but I don't know if that's a good thing."

Rosalyn grimaced a bit. "That is both the intention and the drawback, but it must be done. This is, of course, for the sake of truth and Justice!"

* * *

Rosalyn arrived to find the Madril Scientific Research Centre bustling with activity. It was so bustling, in fact, that it took Kisling a full minute to realize that Rosalyn was there: Something wholly unimaginable to those who knew of the professor's various obsessions. "Ah, my darling Miss Rosalyn!" he cried out, almost throwing himself down the stairs in his effort to reach her. "You've come! Presumably of your own accord! Oh, I knew the genetically engineered hand of science would eventually draw your interests to this field!"

"I'm afraid that's not the case, professor," said Rosalyn, resisting the urge to run far, far away, "Rather, I have an important matter I wish to speak with you about!"  
Kisling gave a little shriek of delight and dropped down on one knee. "Oh, Rosalyn! The answer is yes! The answer will always be yes!"

He would have kissed her hand, but Rosalyn pulled it away. "That is NOT what I meant!" she exclaimed, then quickly composed herself. "Rather, professor Kisling, I came to inquire about your new acquaintance."

Kisling was lost for a moment, and then understanding dawned on his features. "Ah, you must mean Boonita!"

And there was the ghost herself, barely seconds after Kisling had said the name, turning a corner and making a beeline for the professor.

Kisling stared at her for a moment. "…Why, what exceptional auditory capabilities for your species!"

She answered with a cheery "Boo!", a faint shade of red appearing on what passed as her face.

Rosalyn neglected to see this, and instead noted how appropriate it was that this ghost was _pink_. "…Goodness, Ari was right."

"Ah, did you hear of her from Ari?" he asked, "Indeed, it seems that personal information is transported at high velocity via verbal communication! As I've said previously, she is the one who initially followed me!" His smile waned, but never left. "A pity that my enormous intellect does not exert such a pull on other specimens. Ah well."

Boonita paid no mind. Her attention was fixed on Rosalyn.

The Hero studied Kisling's face for a moment. She saw no sign of uncertainty – only that cheery and yet damnably unsound smile. "Perhaps a pity in your opinion, professor," she began. Boonita bristled notably as Rosalyn spoke. "But are you certain it's wise to allow such an attachment?"

"Not at all!" answered Kisling. By some act of divine manipulation, his smile got wider. "But one is never certain what's wise or unwise until you've experimented with it!"  
"Professor Kisling—"

"But I assure you, Miss Rosalyn, that I proceed in my experiments with the utmost caution! Now, although it sincerely pains me to do so, I must return to my work. You simply must visit this establishment again, however! Preferably at a time when we're not fully encompassed in our research!"

And with that, Kisling was off with Boonita trailing behind. Rosalyn would later swear up and down that, in the ghost's gaping, yellow eyes, there was an emotion she could only describe as triumph.

* * *

Ectoplasmic synthesizer:

Power down

Spiritual ion field sonar:

Shut off

Contained paranormal subject terrarium:

Nocturnal mode

Main generator:

Power down

Madril's research centre was completely and utterly silent. It had been a long, busy day – the longest and busiest anyone could remember. The other scientists had long since gone home, leaving professor Kisling alone to record the day's accumulated data.

Alone, of course, except for Boonita.

She was just sort of there, really. She would occasionally peak over Kisling's shoulder (and read and think about oh, how lovely his handwriting was – the quick, tiny scratches illegible to all but the most auspicious and well-read scholars), or loiter around the back of his chair (and wonder at how passionate and diligent he was in his work, as if the outside world had simply faded into nothing and there were only his figures and numbers), or every so often make some sort of noise to draw Kisling's attention for just a moment (but it was such a beautiful moment because he would turn to her and _smile_ at her and his smile was so beautiful and _he _was so beautiful). And as she stayed there, watching him work, her mind wandered of its own accord. She remembered earlier today – that woman, the way she looked, the air with which she held herself, how Kisling had thrown himself bodily at her feet. Boonita still felt a dull throb of rage from earlier, but most of all she found herself unsure, _saddened_ by the recollection. The woman was human, and beautiful, and _human_. Boonita could long for the professor all she wanted; she could love and adore him until her little heart gave out; but all she could do was long for him because she wasn't human or beautiful or, damn it all, _human._

The sound of the desk drawer squealing on its tracks jolted Boonita out of her thoughts.

"Ah, what an incredibly fulfilling session of nocturnal data compilation! It's as if time passes by oneself at a dramatically increased velocity!"

Kisling began to pack up his books, and Boonita glanced at the wall clock. Three forty-five, AM. It seems that losing oneself in their thoughts can also cause the illusion of time passing by at a dramatically increased velocity.

"Come along, then! It would be beneficial to the both of us to return to the boarding facility in order to obtain a desirable amount of rest," said the professor. He gave Boonita another smile, and her heart just about melted right there.

And so, Boonita followed professor Kisling home, all the while lost in thought – how she loved this man; how she wanted to be beautiful – _human _for him, and how such a thing seemed so horribly, impossibly far away.

* * *

A few days later, Kisling once again appeared on Ari's doorstep with Boonita by his side. Ari made a mental note of how this seemed to cement Rosalyn's report that yes, there was a ghost following Kisling and yes, apparently of its own accord.

"Ah, Ari! I require a conversational meeting with-"

"You wanna talk to dad about toenails."

Kisling paused. "Why, what an educated and consequentially correct estimation!"

"…Right," said Ari, quirking an eyebrow, "He's in the study, I thi—"

"_Slave! _Stop wasting time with that stupid door!"

Ari grimaced.

"My, would I be correct in assuming that vocal frequency belongs to Stan?" Kisling inquired, peering around Ari.

"…Stan was in the area. And got bored."

There was a moment of silence between the three of them.  
"…Oh dear."  
"Boo."

Ari's grimace got deeper.

"Ah, but yes," continued Kisling, stepping into the foyer, "Knowing his approximate location, I shall go initiate conversation with your father!"

Kisling started off towards one of the hallways with Boonita and Ari in tow – Ari included because _he_ knew better than to leave the professor alone for long periods of time. They passed by the living room, and that's when Boonita caught sight of Evil King Stan.

He was only sitting there in one of the chairs, a heavy scowl plastered on his face, but even when idle Boonita, being a ghost and more susceptible to such senses, could literally _feel _the power he possessed. This was, beyond a doubt, the Shadow Evil King.

The idea, though simple enough, was enough to make her stop dead in her tracks.

_This is the Shadow Evil King. He has power._

The words echoed in the back of her mind.

_The Shadow Evil King. He has power._

Again and again.

_Shadow Evil King. Power._

_Power._

_Power._

_Power._

Everything began to fall into place. Suddenly, Boonita's goal didn't seem so horribly impossible.

* * *

"…Slave."

Ari said nothing.

"Slave."

"…Yes, Stan."

"Tell me again why we're here."

Ari looked over his shoulder at Stan. "What?"

"Tell me again why we're loitering around in your graveyard after dark."

"Mom's orders," said Ari, waving the watering pail in his hand, "She wants me to keep the flowers around here watered. It makes the graveyard look more presentable or…something."  
Stan narrowed his eyes. "At night."

"I would've gotten to my chores during the day if you hadn't made me keep you occupied."  
King Stan crossed his arms in front of him and leaned against one of the tombstones. "That's beside the point. You should know better than to change the subject, slave."  
"…Right, Stan."

"Boo."

Stan jumped a good two feet and spun around to find a floating pink mass behind him. "…What the hell."

Ari was utterly boggled for a moment. "It's that…Boonita thing. The one I said was following Kisling around?"

"You never told me it was so fluorescent, Slave. I'm being blinded and it's _night_," Stan glanced around the area. "And don't tell me that quack is around here. Figures he would stalk a damn graveyard."

Boonita shook her head – or at least the ghost equivalent, which consisted of her entire mass wobbling violently.

Stan looked at Boonita again, mild surprise turning into utter rage. "And _you_, you third-rate being. Who do you think you are, sneaking up on the great Evil King Stan?!"

Boonita flinched, but stood her ground. "Buh boo buh buh _boo _buh," she said in a tone of the utmost determination.

"…What?"  
"I guess it…wants something. I think," Ari wondered aloud.

The ghost nodded – which equated to wobbling violently at a different rate than before - and floated to a grave a few feet away. It was an ancient thing, granite riddled with cracks and layered with moss and various types of mold. Carved into the face was the image of a young woman, which Boonita nudged a few times before turning back to the others.

"…You never told me it was retarded, slave."

"I…didn't know."

Boonita replied with a defiant "_Boo_" and continued to bump against the tombstone.

Ari stared thoughtfully at the tombstone; the relief; the way Boonita so desperately thrust herself against it, as if she'd gone as her aged and unrequited love interest; the way—

Suddenly, everything clicked in Ari's head. It really _was _love, wasn't it? Why else would she constantly follow Kisling around? Why else would she not have run, knowing how obviously obsessed he was with her species? Why else would she have sought them out in the middle of the night in a _graveyard_?

Ari buried his face in his hands. That was it. This wasn't a freak accident or mind control. This was a full-blown, bona fide school girl crush.

On _Professor Kisling._

"…Stan."

"Stop doing that, you insipid little ghost! You're giving me a headache!"

"_**Stan.**_"

"What?!"

"This is about Kisling."

Boonita stopped, perked up, and stared straight at Ari. Right on the mark, it seemed.

Stan raised an eyebrow. "Well, what _about _professor crackpot?"

Ari went back the staring at the relief. For the first time, he noticed the finer details of the old thing. The frills on her dress, the dainty curve of her face, the lovely bow set atop her hair, the—

He looked at Boonita, then, the relief, then back to Boonita.

Oh God.

"Oh God."

There went Stan's eyebrow again.

Ari put his face in his hands and muttered to himself for a while, then picked his head up and looked at Stan. "I get it."

"Get what?"

"What she wants."

"Well, out with it!"

Ari braced himself. "She has a raging crush on Professor Kisling and wants to become a human girl because she figures that's the only way she'll get Kisling to love her back, " he took a deep breath and continued, "So she approached us – well, _you_, really – because she figured you would have enough power to do this."

Stan stared.

Boonita stared.

Ari tried to catch his breath.

"…Two things. One, how the _hell _did you figure that out from this thing ramming its face into a tombstone and screaming at you? Two, why the _hell _would I even agree to something so stupid?"

"Because this whole situation is suspiciously similar to every love story I've ever read," said Ari with a shrug, "And I dunno, I guess she has something to offer for it."

Stan turned his gaze to Boonita. "Well, ghost, is that true? Do you have an offer for me?

Boonita balked.

Stan narrowed his eyes. "…I'll tell you what. Pledge your eternal and undying allegiance to my evil rule and I'll do _something._"

Oh dear, the metaphorical selling of one's soul to the devil. Boonita's silence continued for a long while, and then she gave Stan the closest thing she could to a nod.

Stan returned a particularly malicious grin. "Excellent, ghost-slave. Though I must warn you that this will be temporary. I'm an evil king, not a damned miracle worker."

Boonita hesitated, then 'nodded' again.

Ari, meanwhile, wore a decidedly dubious expression. "…This is _really_ out of character for you."

"It is not," asserted Stan with a haughty snort, "I'm getting additional services out of this, on the off-chance that this insignificant ghost makes a better slave than you do." He leaned in closer to Ari and continued in a whisper, "Besides, think of the heartbreak and mayhem this could cause the both of them! It's utterly, deliciously evil!"

Ari replied with a long, pained sigh. "Mass pandemonium. Right."

"Now then, ghost," said Stan in as authoritative a tone as he could muster. Boonita, for once, did not flinch. "I'm prepared to take you up on your offer here and now. Are you ready in both body and mind?"

* * *

The next day was, once again, an exceptionally busy one for the Madril Research Centre. A startling new development regarding the respiratory system of the Loser Crocodile had sent the entire research team into an absolute frenzy. There was data to be updated, charts to be redone, passages to be rewritten – the works. And there was Professor Kisling in the middle of it all, doing his best to keep his researchers from trampling each other in their mad rush. He was running diagnostics, barking out directions, and occasionally slapping some sense into any scientists who were nearing a breakdown. It was utterly insane, and Kisling barely had the time and brainpower to formulate one of his long and florid sentences, let alone wonder why Boonita had not followed him to work.

Somewhere around noon, Kisling's previous night of completing datasheets until 4 o' clock in the morning had begun to weigh on him terribly. It was when he had taken a moment to rest, leaning against the second story railing, that he saw her.

She stood just below the balcony and was staring straight at him, a young woman that Kisling honestly didn't recognize – which was very odd, because Professor Gutten Kisling had memorized the name and toenail type of every woman in Madril; an accomplishment he was quite proud of. His team paid her no mind, instead scurrying around her like frenzied rats in a test chamber. All but a ghost to them, but to Kisling she stood out like a miss-clipped toenail. She was very petite, fair of skin, and seemed to be somewhere in her late pre-teens. She wore a casual – but still quite pretty – red dress, and a lovely red bow sat atop her curled, brown--

Kisling almost flipped right over the balcony. It might have been the sleep deprivation, it might have been the stress of all the pandemonium in the research centre, or it might have just been _him, _but nevertheless, in that moment, everything clicked.

Somehow, it was _her._

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Kisling was at a loss for words. He stared. She stared. They both stared until the _she_ turned around and made her way towards the door, weaving through the group of scientists comparing statistics sheets. Kisling was left alone on the noisy, bustling balcony, and began formulating a good excuse to take off early today.

* * *

Later that day, Professor Kisling was greeted at Ari's door by none other than the Hero Rosalyn. It was such a pleasant surprise to him that colour immediately flushed back into his face, though Rosalyn still caught a glimpse of a paranormally distressed Kisling.

"Greetings, Miss Rosalyn!" he said, "I was just here to discuss an exciting new development regarding the history of toenail clippers with Ari's father! But ah, whatever are you doing inhabiting the residence of Ari's immediate family?"

"Hello, Professor Kisling," Rosalyn replied with a decidedly stern look, "As for what I'm doing here, I believe the general term for it is _intervention_."

Kisling's smile wavered. "I'm afraid I do not fully comprehend what you mean in the use of that term!"

"Professor, I've been led to believe that there has or will be an…incident with your new acquaintance."

All the colour drained out of Kisling's face again, leaving him even paler than usual. "Is that so?" he managed to force out, "Well, it seems that personal information really _is_ transported at high velocity via verbal communication, even if the source of the information does not verbalize the situation."

Rosalyn gave him a look that was almost pitying. "Please come inside, Professor." And so Rosalyn, without actually touching him, lead Kisling into Ari's living room and, again without touching him, sat the professor down on the couch. "Now," she began, taking a seat directly opposite Kisling, "I understand that something changed with your…Boonita."  
"Indeed she has!" Kisling cut in, just about tripping over his words with how fast they were coming out, "And it's proven to be a puzzle of absolutely astounding proportions, as for the life of me I cannot understand how a ghost of her species would be able to take on a form that was so incredibly close to that of our own genus _homo sapien sapien_, and yet--"

Rosalyn held up a hand, and Kisling's last few words trailed off into unintelligible mumbling. "That is beside the point, Professor Kisling. The point is that, in accordance with the devotion to my heroic duties, I have come here to warn you not to let Boonita's new appearance deceive you!" Rosalyn put her hand down and lowered her voice to just above a whisper, "I assume she's already confronted you."

Kisling looked down at his feet. "Indeed, she gave me her intention directly after I had left the research centre."

"And what did you do?"

"I dealt with the situation with the most mature and appropriate approach possible for an individual in my situation."

Rosalyn's face brightened noticeably. "That is excellent, Professor Kisling!"

"Yes, I booked out the entirety of the Madril dance hall at promptly eight o' clock tonight for optimum privacy."

"WHAT?!" Rosalyn half screamed, almost leaping out of her chair as if to throttle a bit of Beautiful Correction into Kisling's head, "Professor Kisling, I implore you to consider the fact that your Boonita is still a _ghost!_ You are submitting to her unattainable fantasies and encouraging outlandish behavior, the likes of which I've never seen! And if you do continue with this plan, I may be forced to take--"

Kisling put his hand up this time, stopping Rosalyn in her tracks. "I understand your apprehension in relation to this situation, but I must remind you that I am a fully developed male and am capable of making decisions that are appropriate for each situation." He put his hand down, but Rosalyn stayed quiet. "Miss Rosalyn, I may very well be a crackpot, or even a lunatic…"

He smiled, and for once it was a smile that was calm, collected, maybe even comforting.

"…But I am certainly not an idiot!"

Kisling stood up and gave Rosalyn an affirmative nod. "Now, Miss Rosalyn, I'm afraid I can't afford to spend more than a further 14.5 seconds in this residence! I implore you to notify me the next instance you are in this particular area, however!"

And with that he walked out, leaving Rosalyn without a thing to say. As much as it went against the heroic code drilled into her since she was first admitted to the Hero's Academy, Rosalyn thought to herself that an _intervention_ would not do any good in this situation.

* * *

Approximately one minute, fifty-two seconds after eight o' clock, Boonita saw Professor Gutten Kisling, wearing a well-pressed and rather dashing tuxedo, walk into Madril Exquisite Dance Hall's most elegant ballroom. It was all Boonita could do to keep herself from rushing him, and the effort made her new legs wobble beneath her. He came and smiled at her, calm and controlled, and she smiled back, small and sheepish. He took her by the hand and gently pulled her against him, and it was so beautiful and _he _was so beautiful and Boonita was so incredibly grateful that she could have cried. She _did _cry, silently and happily to herself as he led her through a slow, gliding waltz.

* * *

Two weeks later, Professor Kisling watched through his binoculars as Boonita, a floating mass of pink ectoplasm with a pretty red bow on top, made a very eager beeline for another ghost and greeted it with a happy little "boo". Kisling jotted down the physical attributes of the new ghost with his free hand – _maya blue tint to ectoplasmic mass, larger in volume than normal specimens by an approximated 4.6 centimetres cubed, shows no sign of ailment or physical flaw._

Kisling smiled to himself, calm enough at first, but then with a very evident and very unnerving exhilaration.

Oh, wonderful, beautiful, methodical data.

* * *

"You know..." Ari began, watering the flowers in the graveyard, again, as Stan watched him, again, because the all-powerful Shadow Evil King had kept him from getting his chores done, _again_.

"Of course I know, slave. You should realize by now that I know everything."

"Well, yeah. I mean no. I mean, you remember that Boonita thing?"

"What of it?"

"Well, you never made it…her…" Ari straightened up and paused for a moment, "…it come back to be your evil minon. Or whatever you wanted to do with it."

Stan gave a haughty snort. "I decided that it would have been of no use to me. Ghosts have no arms to accomplish evil slave work with, and therefore I have even less use for them than I have for you," Stan set his back against the tombstone and crossed his arms. "Besides, you are not pink, unlike that stupid ghost. You can't expect a kingly presence such as moi to have a minion that is _pink_."

Ari, with a sigh that carried more pain than what is healthy for one boy, went back to watering his mother's petunias.


End file.
